Spring Upon the Solstice

VII - Countdown to Extinction

{ 001 }

An hour passes by, and my legs grow numb. The blood in them, as expected, doesn't circulate—go figure. Though, I know the real reason behind their lifelessness, and unfortunately, this kind of curse inflicted upon me is intentional.

I sit in the dark cockpit alone, a flashlight between my teeth, hovering the lonely beam over one of the few worthwhile novels I discovered in Kyoto. At the very least, the literature at the Fuwakase bookstore beats the propaganda in the HERALD compound and anything Big Brother pumps out nowadays.

The heretical grimoire in my hands is The Kingdom, penned by crime novelist Fuminori Nakamura back in the early half of the century. It chronicles the struggles of Yurika—a woman consumed by the vicious, gaping maw of the criminal underworld—and the paradoxical lengths she goes to in order to escape from it. By day an ordinary person, she poses at night as a prostitute to coerce information out of her employers' rivals. It's a fascinating tale of human resolve, I find.

"One, you there?" A man's voice—one I sadly know well—comes over the comlink.

Lazily, I press a button on the control console, spitting out the flashlight. "I'm here. Over."

"You're awfully calm."

"You can't go into combat nervous. That's the easy way to make mistakes. I'm about to be fighting for the sake of the world, so yeah, I guess I am calm. Or at least, I'm forcing myself to be calm."

"I hope you don't need me to say it, but you talk a lot when you're nervous."

"Thanks for reminding me."

Yokubari lets the pause trail on for a while, before he speaks again. "You're kind of like that Fukiyama boy. You both talk big when you're on edge, though he's different. He always seems anxious."

"Might be because you kidnapped him and his friends, and threatened his parents," I growl as best as I can. My lungs weigh down on my chest, as though packed with shovelfuls of clay.

"I...apologize for slamming you against a wall earlier."

"I don't suppose you could also apologize to Jhiro for keeping him in solitary when he's claustrophobic."

"I'll consider it."

"Maybe I should've warned you before, but I don't think you want to make an enemy of Sojirou Fukiyama, or any of the candidates, for that matter. History knows it never works out."

"History doesn't always repeat," the Prince of Greed slides me a snide remark. "Surely somebody taught you that."

I punch an access code into my control panel, and a cabinet in the wall pops out. Bookmarking my page with a quick swipe, I rest Nakamura's work inside with my flashlight; Yurika will have to wait until after I finish this mission.

"Yeah, and I know that history often rhymes. I'm literally here to make sure that doesn't happen," I say, pinching the bridge of my nose.

"Well, you better go into radio silence soon. Once the operation starts, you'll be on your own."

"I appreciate the support."

"I don't think you need it, personally."

"Is that a compliment, or are you trying to patronize me?"

"I'm just trying to act as altruistically as possible in this scenario."

"Altruism doesn't suit you at all," I venture.